All of Me by Kim Noble Page B

it?’ she asked again.
    ‘Do what?’ I replied.
    She rolled her eyes and sighed.
    ‘No one can help you if you don’t tell the truth.’
    God, it was worse than being sent to the headmaster’s office. Why were people always accusing me of things I hadn’t done? It was so unfair.
    ‘I am telling the truth,’ I insisted. ‘What did I do?’
    ‘There’s no helping you, is there?’
    And that was her last word on the matter. She spoke about other stuff, like school friends who’d asked about me, messages from family, gossip from the street. That kind of thing. But she refused to be drawn on the reason for my being there. That was a mystery I would have to unravel without her.
    Where do I start?
    Suddenly I was at home. I closed my eyes in the hospital and woke up in my own bed. I didn’t question it. I often found myself waking up when I couldn’t remember going to sleep. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that. The only question on my mind was why I had been attacked by the doctors like that. It still hurt to swallow and the idea of eating anything made my stomach turn.
    Nan wasn’t happy to see me home. She kept saying I’d betrayed her. I couldn’t work out why. That was horrible enough. Then I saw her have a row with Dad. Nan was shouting, ‘They were mine, she had no right taking them!’ and Dad was yelling, ‘You should be more careful where you leave these things!’ It was worse than watching him argue with Mum.
    Speaking of Mum, she pretty much ignored me for a while. It was as if our hospital chats had never happened.
    The worst thing about being home was the nightmares. Bedtimes were bad enough generally but each night I’d wake, sitting bolt upright, thinking of some hideous half memory. I had no idea what was triggering the response but the result was the same each night. Sometimes Dad called out to me to shut up. Other times Lorraine came rushing in or Mum’s voice drifted up from the front room. Was I all right? What was going on?
    I was fine, but as for what was happening to me, I had no idea.
    After a few days’ recuperation at home Mum decided I was well enough to go back to school. I was actually grateful. The atmosphere at home between Mum and Dad wasn’t great. Mum was still sleeping downstairs even though her leg was a lot better. Maybe she wasn’t in a hurry to get back up with Dad.
    Breathing too heavily still felt like sandpaper on my lungs so I took it easy that first day back at school. As soon as my friends saw me I was bombarded by attention – and questions.
    ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘What were you in for?’
    ‘Did you have an operation?’
    ‘I heard it was your heart.’
    I batted them all away as best I could.
    ‘I’m fine. It was nothing. Just a check-up.’
    Nobody swallowed that. I’d been away too long. The majority of people quickly lost interest, though. Those that didn’t were just annoyed by the obvious lie.
    ‘We’re your friends. You can tell us.’
    Still I kept my own counsel. What was I meant to do? I didn’t have a clue what had happened. All I could say for sure was that the doctors had kidnapped me and performed some sort of illegal operation. I couldn’t understand why my parents weren’t making more of a fuss. Look how Mum had exploded when I tore my tights at school.
    Then the mood started to turn. My friends didn’t believe my story. Whispers started doing the rounds. I was a liar. I had secrets. No one would be my friend.
    Then they pulled out the big guns.
    ‘I heard she tried to kill herself.’
    ‘At one point she was technically dead.’
    ‘School drove her to it.’
    ‘She’s just an attention seeker.’
    It seemed that everyone had an opinion. Some of the rumours were obviously flights of fancy. Some of them were just plain vicious – complete strangers were passing the gossip on to me by accident and it was getting worse with every telling. The consensus, however, was that I was a liar. And completely